Empty Sac

Dear Leigh,

I don't know if my parents have told "the family," as I've asked, but I will tell you now: we lost the baby.  I went in for a routine appointment three weeks ago, and they couldn't find the heartbeat, so they did an ultrasound.  It showed an "empty gestational sac."  The heartbeat and the tiny embryo that had been there a few weeks earlier were gone.  I was devastated then, but felt as though I recovered quickly. Jeremiah, too, had some bad days, and then seemed okay.  But then I actually miscarried, this past Wednesday, which involved much of the same as labor--contractions, dilation, excruciating pain.  Since then, I have felt totally empty, in every way. It's gone... completely gone... confirmed by yet another scan.  Jeremiah, who did not have to go through the physical ordeal (which has left me exhausted and sore all over), is fine, emotionally, and doing a good job of being sympathetic and supportive.  Still, though, I feel quite alone.  I worry that that was our only chance at parenthood--that we'll never again be on the same page, since Jeremiah now wants to "figure out where we're going next" (after Morgantown), and I want to have X amount in the bank (this will be, no doubt, an expensive miscarriage, what with the ER visit and multiple ultrasounds).  I fear we'll find reason after reason not to try again, until it's too late.

It's not a good time to be thinking about it, regardless, but I can't help it.  Every cell of my body wants back what we lost.  Not only were we going to be parents; we were closer, we established a routine that kept the house together and kept us eating healthy, we were in love again like we'd just started dating.  All of that has evaporated, except the love, which has morphed into something deeper, but less joyful.

I don't know what to do with myself now.  I'd been making cloth diapers every weekend, and knitting a blanket, and making lists of names at every opportunity...

Just feeling empty, and a little lost, and a little alone.

Sorry to be such a downer... I hope you're doing well.

Love,
Kate

Ice Cream for Dinner

Dear Leigh,

I kept putting off writing to you until I "have more energy," but I realized that could leave you waiting for quite a while, so I figured I'd write a quick post tonight.

I have to admit, I was a little disappointed in our beach week--not in the company (except for missing Derek), or in the location, but in myself.  It seemed as though I napped my way through, and had little to nothing to say.  Life is very predictable, and I'm enjoying it, but it doesn't leave me with stories.  I guess I did go to England for a week, but somehow it didn't cross my mind to bring that up (til now).

Of course, I'm napping my way through evenings and weekends back in West Virginia, too, and frustrating Jeremiah because I can't bring myself to eat broccoli but I have no problem eating ice cream or baby back ribs. It tears at his health-food-loving soul.  Hopefully broccoli will taste good again in a few weeks.

It's difficult to believe I'm pregnant, after the year I had.  I'm glad I left my old gynecologist, because it seems that everything they told me was wrong.  Of course, we thought they might be right, and thus thought it would take a smidgen longer to get me knocked up... but a few months won't really make a difference.  Jeremiah will have a more interesting final semester than he bargained for--that's all.  And I got my big trip to England with my girlfriends in, before I couldn't justify spending that kind of money on something frivolous.  I do wish they were going to be around for my pregnancy, though.  All of my closest friends live at least 5 hours away, and the one good friend I've made here is freaked out by pregnant people and hates babies, and so refers to this whole thing as the "countdown to the end of our friendship."  She's only 20 percent joking.

Anyway, I did finish that book--"Never Let Me Go."  I had hoped for some sort of change in the circumstances of the main character, but she's awfully complacent about being bred to provide organs for uncloned people.  Apart from her and Tom's attempt to have a few years together because they're in love, that is, but even that smacked of complacency.  A few years?  Why not a lifetime?

I'm about to start reading "Out Stealing Horses."I admit, I chose it because I liked the title.

I hope you're doing well.

Love,
Kate

I think all I can write are doozies....

Dear Kate,

Wow. Here it is, 15 September, and I just went into our blog to discover a letter!! A few late, and I apologize for that. Unlike you, who gets the joy of sitting in front of a computer all day, I tend to shy away from my computer. Lately, it has become a box of homework assignments and emails I do not really like to read. Though it is no excuse for not keeping up, it is mine for now. I have a hard time looking on facebook or my email, even the school website, because I know there is something there needing some attention. I suppose I have to be in a right state of mind to open the computer these days and make it, and the assignments and correspondents the object of my attention.

So, to make brief updates: the fridge did not disappear as I had hoped on that particular day I wrote. Instead, I received a phone call from Washington state of all places, informing me that because of the tropical mess we had passing through, they were unable to pick up the fridge. But a new date was set, and I moved the beast to the living room in wait, and sure enough, the new appointment held fast and the fridge is gone...and I danced a jig to celebrate. In addition, I am still waiting on the approval of my proposal. It ties my stomach in knots not knowing, but a conversation with Diane has lit a bit of hope, so here I sit, still officially unemployed, but still hopeful.

My new semester has started, and it is a bit of a doozy. I met with an old friend the other night who commented that I had a new look upon my face. I claimed that I felt my head was in a cloud. He commented that the new “technology” term for the cloud was knowledge...a cloud of knowledge. I responded in this case, my head was swirling around in a thunder storm. It’s good stuff, but keeps my mind occupied.

I’m planning with all my might to make the beach next summer. Mom and I have talked about it numerous times. We’re thinking of renting a small condo for the two of us, as we are not sure if Mike and his Kate will be joining us. What I can say for this future excitement, is that when I get to be in the company of my “family” again, I will be on the backwards slide towards graduation. These next two semesters will be heavy with information, but by next summer, I will be interning again, and the course load is null and void. Basically seminar classes to discuss our experiences and plans as Social Work Counselors. So it will be a grand time. I sure hope you and J will be there, I look forward daily to that week.

I laughed out loud a few days (weeks?) back when Derek turned 25, and am flabbergasted to think of us all as grown ups now. I am glad to think that though we were not in close physical proximity, I still feel in a way that we have all grown up together. Family has taken on so many new meanings for me lately. With the rise and quick fall of potential relationships (which there have been VERY few), I still and comforted to know that, as Mike and I have always said, Family First. I am grateful for the closeness of our clan. And in saying that, I am confident that- going back to the adoption thought - if any of us ever adopted a child into the family, the Welch clan would accept that child as if he/she were biological. No questions asked. I know on the Ray side we have many children, but I know for me, that prospect is out of the question. So I am confident that, one day, when I am able to afford and be stable enough for a child, that child I open my home to will be as welcome as any other born to this family. I can’t express how awesome that makes me feel, and how proud I am to be a Welch.

As is my habit, I tend to ramble. I re-read my last letter and realized what a bucket load it was. But in my defense, there was much to say to catch up on our words gone astray for over a year! ha I am happy you are rediscovering your love for your music. My instruments are gathering dust these days, so perhaps you inspire me as well to tune that lovely dulcimer. Maybe tomorrow....

Take care cuz. And I’ll do better at checking our Ab Epistulis.

Love,

Roberta

PS....I loved your paragraph about the kid thing...It was a great look into your thoughts, free flowing in the letter. And no matter where the child comes from, it will always be your child. So be Narcissistic...it’s ok once and a while!

Phew!

Dear Roberta,

Goodness! I am surprised you had a moment to write! I'm sorry that your job was "tailored out" (that's what we say at work), but the work you're doing with the organization for women and children is wonderful, and certainly needed. It seems like it will lead right into the kind of work you really would like to do, as well... So, good for humanity, and good for your career.

My parents are away in London right now (they don't like to mention their trips on Facebook, so you might not have heard about it). They're off on a two-week Baltic cruise in a few days, after they hang out in London for a bit. Every time they go on a trip, I worry, and I realize just how much my parents mean to me. They are my best friends and champions, and I feel like it took me far too long to really appreciate them, quirks and all. Losing one or both would leave me mute, somehow, because I tell them pretty much everything. Though I imagine a significant other would have been a great comfort to you this year, I'm glad you and your mom are talking and hanging out so much.

When my health/cat/job issues all coincided, I lost a lot of my optimism (I discovered, after meeting J's mother, that I'm an optimist), but I still felt that all of that stress had to be balanced by something good happening soon. The job security is good, and has brought back a lot of my optimism...

As far as kids go, I'm all mixed up, which I think is how people usually are. I was in a lot of pain, for a while, because of what my doctor has diagnosed as endometriosis, and when I told J that infertility was often a result of it, he said, "Well, then, we'll adopt, and those kids will be our family, and we'll never look back." Not that we were actually thinking of kids now... We agree with you, and intend to have whatever education we want out of the way before we move on to the "family" stage. Yet, when you're 25 (holy crap, when did that happen??? I typed 23 without realizing it was wrong, for a minute), you just assume that, whenever you want one, you can choose to have a baby. So, a doctor and the internet telling me that might not be true was quite a shock... as was my gut reaction, which was "Well, then, I don't want any at all, and I'd better figure out a fantastically successful career." See, I'd always thought that I wouldn't care if I couldn't have a biological kid... I guess I'm more of a narcissist than I thought.

I'm not sure where I was going with that. It's just what's been on my mind.

In the past few months, I have discovered that I truly love violin. I've been playing quite a lot, and teaching J how to play. I like to feel that I'm good at something, and (when nobody is watching), I'm very good at violin. I wish I could give lessons... but I was too much of a coward to study music in undergrad. Music students had to give solo recitals, you see...

Bart is, according to my father-in-law, settling in well to his new home. It's amazing how much you miss animals when they're gone... Every time I go to water my indoor plants, I miss that silly cat, because he always used to come running, hop up on the plant table, and try to drink the water from my pitcher (even though he had a motorized fountain with a filter). Someone offered me ANOTHER cat the other day, and I explained that I felt it would be a betrayal to Bartholomew to get a different cat when we couldn't even keep our first cat with us... They probably would have preferred a simple "No, thanks."

I'll sign off, for now. I have trouble sitting at computer screens for long, anymore, since all I do is stare at a screen all week. You inspire me to try to make my life useful... must start brainstorming this week.

Love,

Kate

Time IS on Our Side

Dear Kate,

Dear Girl! It sounds like you yourself have been through hell and again, though it has been over a year since we have formally written. I know we corresponded since, but planes, trains and funerals I don’t think count. Life is transitional, and we have both transitioned quite a bit it seems since our last letter.

I am currently sitting here at my computer, high on wine and mold fumes from an old fridge that the folks at Gulf Power have agreed to take away tomorrow. In brief, I got a “new” fridge from an old friend here in town, and my old fridge has sat as a looming back drop to my dining room since July. I found out that rather than calling my local garbage disposal company and paying them to take the fridge away, at my own labor of getting the darn thing out to the street, I called the local power company who will come into my house and remove the beast AND pay me $35 so they can recycle the parts. I love friends who suffer the same consequences as myself, and can offer insight of how to best proceed with the removal of the darn thing. So tomorrow, excitement ensues as that fridge will finally be removed from my house with me the better of the deal.

Such is the kindness of well timing and networking through friends.

So Life. I “lost” my job at the church in early August. They, while I was on a trip with the kids, decided they needed a “Full Time” person to work with the youth. And I, stuck in a predicament working in Mobile, AL for an internship, and enrolled in school, was not what they envisioned. I think it dealt more with an undesired environment to work with me. I gave them a good 5 years of my time, and three months of a crazy work schedule was the fuel they needed to be gone with my personal position. Not to mention the days I took to deal with my family and dad’s departure of this world.

A note on that: life has been a whirlwind of depression, grief, and all other fragments in relation to that event. Mike, my brother, had his gal Kate present through all the dealings, and the life following. Me, on the other hand, have grown closer to mom with daily conversations, and a new dealing with progression without my dad physically there telling me of his pride and support of my education. I know I had written before of my frustrations of his enabling Mike in his hopscotch actions, but in his last months, he really was my Dad. And I miss hearing his voice, though through these tough times, I have heard him in my head saying “Just do the best we can,” and I try daily to do just that.

So Life: it’s been tough. But I can say today that things are finally looking up. I don’t have my job to hold me back. I miss it like crazy. But I do have the time now to do what I want to do, in my involvement in Breast Cancer Awareness (I’m knitting a bunch of Pink Scarves to raise money) to my involvement in GSSWO - Graduate Student Social Work Organization - volunteering my time as “secretary” to get the organization off it’s feet. Today, also, I submitted a formal proposal to my internship place of employment - Sybil Smith Family Village (more later) to promote my employment as a part time, temporary Child Advocate. Things finally are looking up.

A quick note about Sybil Smith -

It’s a transitional housing facility for women with histories of drug abuse or domestic violence in Mobile. It’s a place where women can regain their feet and have better futures for themselves and their children. Their children is where I come in. My classmate, and good friend, Mary, works there as the case manager for the women. She is the one who got me the paid internship for the summer. Now, they, the Village mothers, and the very small staff, miss my influence and impact on the kids. I told the director, Diane, that I could not afford the daily commute to Mobile (1 hr 13 min). But yesterday, I went in to talk to Diane about upping the notch with my kids. Basically, I offered to come in twice a week. Mondays to work group and fellowship sessions and Thursdays to work individual sessions. Today, I sent her a formal proposal which she will take to the “Big Boss” for approval. Basically, I (and Diane) are asking that the Exec. approve me for working the two days for about the same amount pay I received during my daily internship. Things are looking good for that.

So, in a nut shell: I have taken my student loans, the prospect of this job, and the numerous hours of volunteer I can now provide for the various organizations, and have made a living. It is meager at best, but I am thankful for the transition to the Social Work Counseling door this whole mess has opened for me. My fingers are crossed now that this will all work out for the future of my education and life.

Yes, Grad School gives purpose. And for me now, my purpose has been two fold: getting my education and credentials, all while allowing me to stay in my little home, and care for the only family I have close at hand: the two dogs and one cat.

So, enough about me...I’m sorry to hear about Bart, but know he’s in a happy home. I have considered the same path for ol’ itchy and stinky Smokie. But I am glad to hear of J. rediscovering his passion, and the two of you rekindling a flame you obviously have had for each other. As far as children are concerned, I understand the frustration of not being able to bear your own (as I am quickly aging out of that circuit), but I cannot stress the alternative enough that there are many, many children needing homes, and I hope you will never rule out the option of adoption or even fostering. But wait... You are still young enough to make the decision in a wise and well supported place in life. I have a classmate, who is actually a year or so younger than you, stressed about the child process. And I have given him the same advice I offer you: wait until J. (for him, himself) is a graduate, so children are not a distraction from the goal with which he (and J) are currently pursuing.

When you find yourself settled, the right decision will come. You are young...don’t let friends pregnancies influence your mind. The right time will come when you decide what best to do when children are concerned. And know, that no matter what, though we may be only cousins, I will still and always demand the Auntie status!

Much Love, and glad for our Correspondence,

Roberta

Feels like it's been five years in one

Dear Leigh,

I'm afraid I've been a woefully neglectful cousin. In fact, I know I have. It's been a crazy/hellish year for me, yet I believe yours has been even more so. I keep wondering how you are, so I figured I should stop wondering and just write to you.

So, how are you? You're in school, right? And am I mistaken in thinking you have a new job? I'd like to hear about all of that.

Life here in wild and wonderful West Virginia has finally reached a state of equilibrium. Since this time last year, Jeremiah and I have been through a lot. He became increasingly moody as the school-year wore on, refused to go out to eat, to movies, to concerts, decided he would not eat sugar... and then he switched to the non-fiction program, made a friend or two, and is again the Jeremiah that I know. Meanwhile, I've loathed and loved my job, bought a lot of clothing, feared for my life on snowy roads, been rejected by WVU's PhD program, let go of my childhood home forever, learned my best friend is pregnant, learned I may not be able to ever be pregnant, and had to send my dear sweet cat to live in the country because of his peeing problem. We are, at least, out of that awful carpeted postage-stamp smelly apartment and into something nice. And Jeremiah and I know each other so much better now (though I thought that wasn't possible).

I forgot about the double budget crises, which made me fear for my job (which is now stable again). Good Lord, what a year. And I'm only 25!

So that's my life as it is now, in a nutshell. It's been a year of re-evaluating what is REALLY important to me and learning that I don't actually have a distinct purpose in life, and can't rely on ever having one GRAND purpose. Oh, what a luxury graduate school was!

Anyway, I hope you'll write back soon. I miss hearing from you.

Love,
Kate

a lament

Dear Kate,

The other night, Sunday night, I was sitting in my back yard and for the first time, could smell the oil. Like a cancer in our gulf, this oil crisis has hit hard on my heart. Granted, the winds were from the south carrying the scent of the sheen, still ten miles away. Today, the wind is blowing from the north, pushing the mess into the Gulf Stream and again away from our coast. Yet, daily, “tar balls” wash on shore, leaving it littered with little brown globs. The beach looks like a very large pack of wild dogs were let loose on the sands to poop.

Another story, if you can bear with me:

Once upon a time, a young man went to England to study. He fell in love, but once his studies were over, he returned to the States, leaving his love behind. He eventually married. Over time, his wife became sick and he was left a widower. Perhaps influenced by loneliness, he sought out a love of his past, re connecting communication after years of separation. His love in England too had married, had started a family, and eventually too widowed. He traveled to England and brought his first love back to the States as his wife, her grown daughters remaining overseas. This story ended happily enough, until she too became sick. Rather than loosing in love twice, they chose to end in a Harry Crosby, Josephine Rotch fashion, ending their lives together with a bullet rather than suffer the pains of illness and loneliness.

These two were members of our church. Mixed emotions regarding their departure fly. And my heart is heavy when I think of them.

My dad is doing well, yet I hear in his voice a new weakness. I see in his emails a confusion of words from a once well written man. His mind can no longer read, nor really understand the strings of words he tries to read. I worry over his treatments. He has had a port installed, which is supposed to be a good thing, but still makes me squirm. He has restarted Radiation, and gets two hour doses of Chemo pumped in his port thingy every two weeks. I remember vividly his last bout with Chemo, and it was far from comforting. He has had his first Chemo dose, and as of this writing, no severe side affects, which is good. But like the oil in the gulf, it is not so much a matter of if, but when.

I feel like David when he cries out in the book of Psalms. Woe unto the depths of my heart!

The hand in hand feeling with these woes is that feeling of solitude. I feel isolated. I wonder why I have to be strong all the time. When can I be weak for just a moment and trust all will be ok? Whose hand can I hold as I stand up to face the storms in my life, the reassuring hand helping me remember that this too shall pass? Where is that someone whom I can trust will be there when it’s time to clean up from this mess?

I spoke to before about Capt’s bitch, bitch, bitch. Well, he still does. Bitches about work. Bitches about his teens, bitches about their mothers, bitches about his doctor. Then, when I cry out my woes, he listens, and claims them as his own. Let me ensure I am clear on this, he does not lift the burden from me or console (if you will), but rather, in a weird sense, steals them from me for his own personal pity party. I hear him, on the phone to his mother, to his brother, to his friends in Savannah, Arizona, Puerto Rico, to his friend’s mothers…you catch my drift…he is on the phone to anyone who will listen, “Woe is me for this family from my church” “Woe is me for the oil in the Gulf” “Woe is me for my girlfriend’s dad.” The man is ALWAYS on the phone (yet to me he claims he has no friends?), and always COMPLAINS!! I sometimes wonder if he breathes between sentences….

Ugh.

Still my guitar gently weeps.

This morning I woke to the capt telling me what great news it is that the Gulf Stream is pushing this oil away. But as one who sees the forest…I cannot rejoice. The damage is done. I am seeing the repercussions everywhere I turn, in the death of our wild life. In the loss to the jobs in Louisiana. To the shoring of our fishing boats. To the pending destruction in the Keys. To the far reaching tendrils of this cancer in the water. And what breaks my heart is that it was caused by man.

And my dad’s situation wears heavy on my heart for the opposite reason: his cancer was NOT caused by “man” (in terms of un-healthy habits).

Ma Cousine, I need a vacation. I have the dates. I leave here July 2^nd and do not have to be back until July 9^th. There are plans for my parents, and I am hoping that there are still plans for West Virginia. I would like to come see you and your new husband over 4^th of July weekend (me coming on Friday, leaving on Monday), if possible. Let me know. I promise I will not be a kill joy. Leaving the negativity of my relationship for a while will put that optimism back into my spirit. Plus, getting to be around family is always remedy for a sad, sad song!

A final tidbit, as my letter is really too long already… but to prove there is good in life:

I did apply for grad school. I am looking at starting a part time, Masters in Social Work program this fall. I dotted my i’s and crossed my t’s and now simply wait for that confirmation. A discussion with the head of the department put great confidence and reinforcement in my decision. So, we shall see.

All is well, ma cousine. Though I grumble, and the time is grey just the now, I know there are sunny skies. The oil spill is a disaster, but life must continue to push on, somehow. I just weep for those who cannot escape the blob. My prayers to the dolphins, sea turtles, fish, pelicans, herons, shell fish, humans and any other creature trapped by these globs of poisoned goo.

Paix,

Leigh